


And Baby Makes Five

by Quilly



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, and jane cannot resist ice cream, in which dirk cannot resist baby things, pregnancy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 20:22:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4975213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quilly/pseuds/Quilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane is too sore and pregnant to function. Dirk takes over shopping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Baby Makes Five

**Author's Note:**

> moving stuff from tumblr. liked this one a lot, therefore it is here.

Your name is Jane Crocker and uuuuugh, you’re so pregnant.

 

The decision you made to have a baby was not one you took lightly in hand. In fact, it took quite a bit of careful thought and planning and second-guessing yourself (are you _sure_ you wanted to do this alone, don’t you want to wait at least one more year before you decide you’re not getting married anytime soon, really?). But you’re thirty, you’re single, you’re financially secure, and you want a baby, dangit!

Roxy helped you choose the sperm donor and Jake shouted encouragement at your uterus during the waiting period. Dirk was, not surprisingly, quiet and stoic throughout the process, and only smiled when you shared the good news. You are now six months along, you feel enormous, and Roxy and Jake are nowhere to be found within yelling distance.

“Dirk,” you whine, and you hear the nigh-silent padding of his socked feet down the carpeted hall to where you are draped like a beached whale over the couch.

“You rang?” he intones.

“Get me ice cream,” you order, and Dirk fires off a salute.

“Yes, ma’am, right away, ma’am, four scoops, ma’am?”

“Just bring the tub,” you say, and Dirk walks into the kitchen saluting so much he looks more like he’s heiling Hitler or something. He comes back with two spoons and the gallon tub of fudge swirl and crowds into your personal space with the spoils.

“You,” you say, “are a god amongst men.”

He grins and tips an enormous wink over his shades. You stick a spoonful of ice cream that is mostly fudge in your mouth and make a very embarrassing sound at the delicious cold sweetness.

“Anything you wanted besides your orgasmic ice cream?” he asks, and you swat his arm. He just grins again. “How about some shopping?”

“Ugh, shopping,” you say, and he frowns around his spoon.

“I thought you thrived on shopping.”

“Do it for me,” you whine. Dirk takes the keyboard from the arm of the couch and pulls up the web browser on the TV (Jade and Dirk together built the TV-computer-gaming console thing from scratch; it works beautifully). He pulls up the Babies R Us website, glances at you, and steals another spoonful of ice cream.

“I’m really gonna do it. I’m gonna spend actual money on things for your ragamuffin.”

You wave your spoon by way of approval and Dirk turns his attention to the screen.

As the level of ice cream in the tub gradually decreases, the muffled and bitten-off squeaks and squeals out of Dirk over the things he’s seeing on the website increase. He finally turns to you with a very determined expression.

“Jane,” he says, “I am buying _all of it_.”

“All of it?” you laugh. “Dirk, we don’t need all of it.”

“But we need it,” he says, and pulls up a selection of infant onesies with ruffles across the bottoms. “Jane. Jane, your baby needs to have a rufflebutt. I can’t not do this.”

“Moderation,” you say. “You are allowed to buy one order of those ruffled onesies.”

He looks at you with an agonized expression, and you laugh. “Okay, you can get two if they come in different colors.”

“They come in four different colors,” he reports, as if you can’t see where he’s hovering the mouse right now. “Jane, I insist on getting all four.”

“If you get all four onesies,” you say, “then only one pair of those shoes.”

“I can do that,” Dirk says. “The rufflebutt is imperative.”

By the end of this excursion, the shopping cart has forty-six items in it and Dirk will be spending seven hundred dollars in baby equipment. You very nearly faint.

“Nope,” he says when you protest. “I am doing the thing. Your baby is gonna be the most well-dressed, best-entertained kid on the face of the planet.”

“But can you afford that?” you say, though it’s mostly empty protest at this point; he bought the house, after all. He looks at you from over his shades again, an honest and small smile on his face.

“Yup,” he says, popping his P. “Consider it a baby shower gift, a birthday present, and Christmas, all rolled into one.”

You smile and massage your belly. The little one is kicking like crazy again! Dirk glances at your stomach, then at your face and back. You grin.

“Go ahead,” you say, and Dirk sticks his hands on your baby belly, then his cheek. When he huffs a surprised laugh, you know he’s been kicked in the face.

“Wow,” he says. Then he says it again, in incredulous tones, “Wow.”

You are overcome with a wave of affection and run your fingers through your best friend’s hair.

Later, he and Roxy will work together to paint the nursery and Jake will be your errand boy, fetching the boxes from Dirk’s purchase from the front step to the hallway, and together the four of you will coo and squeal over the completely adorable clothes and toys. You haven’t always been sure about this decision. You still aren’t.

But you are very sure that it’s going to work out for the best. How could it not, with friends like this on your side?


End file.
